The First Step is two minutes in deep breathing. The object is to get into the habit of filling all the cells of the lungs with air. People, as a rule, breathe superficially, using the air-cells in the upper part of the lungs, and seldom making use of the cells in the lower part. Exercises in deep breathing, covering a considerable period of time, so accustom the lungs to full inspiration, that they in time adapt themselves to the new condition of things, and become practically automatic in their action. This result is of great practical value to the speaker, as it insures a sufficient supply of breath for all the requirements of long clauses and sentences, without taxing the mind in the operation. In short, it becomes a fixed habit of the lungs to keep themselves well filled.

BREATHING EXERCISE.

Inhale slowly for ten, twenty, or thirty seconds; exhale for the same length of time. If thirty seconds of time are used for inhalation, it will be a quite sure test that the lungs are being well filled. An equal amount of time for exhalation will give the student excellent practice in the management of the breath.

The Second Step is two minutes in deep reading. The object of this step is to get easy control of the lower notes of the scale, and thereby secure body or fullness of voice by amplitude of resonance in the large cavity of the chest.

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

FROM CHILDE HAROLD.

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean-roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain,
Man marks the earth with ruin-his control
Stops with the shore;-upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,

When for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,

Calm or convulsed-in breeze or gale or storm,
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime

Dark heaving;-boundless, endless, and sublime— The image of Eternity-the throne

Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone

Obeys thee: thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. Lord Byron.

FROM THE BURIAL OF MOSES.

O, lonely tomb in Moab's land,

O, dark Beth-peor's hill,

Speak to these curious hearts of ours,
And teach them to be still.

God hath His mysteries of Grace-
Ways that we cannot tell;

He hides them deep, like the secret sleep
Of him He loved so well.

Mrs. Cecil Francis Alexander.

FROM HYMN TO MONT BLANC.

Thou, too, hoar Mount! with thy sky-pointing peaks,
Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard,

Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene,
Into the depth of clouds that veil thy breast-
Thou, too, again, stupendous Mountain! thou
That as I raise my head, awhile bowed low
In adoration, upward from thy base

Slow traveling with dim eyes suffused with tears,
Solemnly seemest, like a vapory cloud,

To rise before me-Rise, O ever rise!

Rise like a cloud of incense, from the earth!
Thou kingly Spirit throned among the hills,
Thou dread ambassador from earth to heaven,
Great Hierarch! tell thou the silent sky,
And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun,
Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

FROM ADDRESS TO THE SUN.

O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers!

Whence are thy beams, O Sun! thy everlasting light!

Ossian.

FROM HYMN TO THE NIGHT.

Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer!
Descend with broad-winged flight,

The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair,
The best-beloved Night!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

FROM THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP.

The ocean old,

Centuries old,

Strong as youth, and as uncontrolled,

Paces restless to and fro,

Up and down the sands of gold.

His beating heart is not at rest;

And far and wide,

With ceaseless flow,

His beard of snow

Heaves with the heaving of his breast.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

The Third Step is two minutes in shouting. The object of this step is to secure the maximum of power in vibration and resonance.

EXAMPLE FOR PRACTICE.

FROM THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP.

Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O UNION, strong and great!
Humanity, with all its fears,
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate!

We know what Master laid thy keel,
What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,
Who made each mast, and sail, and rope,
What anvils rang, what hammers beat,
In what a forge, and what a heat,
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!

Fear not each sudden sound and shock;
'Tis of the wave, and not the rock;
'Tis but the flapping of the sail,
And not a rent made by the gale!
In spite of rock and tempest's roar,
In spite of false lights on the shore,
Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea!
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee:
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,

Are all with thee,—are all with thee!

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

The Fourth Step is four minutes in oratorical speaking. As the chief aim in all this training for vocal energy has been to prepare students for the exacting demands of public speaking, we select, as our last exercise in this drill, the oration. (See introductory remarks to the chapter "Oratorical Styles," page 309).

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

FROM THE ORATION INCENTIVES TO DUTY.

Go forth into the many mansions of the house of life: scholars! store them with learning; jurists! build them with justice; artists! adorn them with beauty; philanthropists! let them resound with love. Be servants of truth, each in his vocation; doers of the word and not hearers only. Be sincere, pure in heart, earnest, enthusiastic. A virtuous enthusiasm is always self-forgetful and noble. It is the only inspiration now vouchsafed to man. Like Pickering, blend humanity with learning. Like Story, ascend above the Present, in place and time. Like Allston, regard fame only as the eternal shadow of excellence. Like Channing, bend in adoration before the

right. Cultivate alike the wisdom of experience and the wisdom of hope. Mindful of the Future, do not neglect the Past: awed by the majesty of Antiquity, turn not with indifference from the Future. True wisdom looks to the ages before us, as well as behind us. Like the Janus of the Capitol, one front thoughtfully regards the Past, rich with experience, with memories, with the priceless traditions of virtue; the other is earnestly directed to the All Hail Hereafter, richer still with its transcendent hopes and unfulfilled prophecies.

We stand on the threshold of a new age, which is preparing to recognize new influences. The ancient divinities of Violence and Wrong are retreating to their kindred darkness.

There's a fount about to stream,
There's light about to beam,
There's a warmth about to glow,
There's a flower about to blow;
There's a midnight blackness changing
Into gray;

Men of thought, and men of action,
Clear the way.

Aid the dawning, tongue and pen;
Aid it, hopes of honest men;
Aid it, paper; aid it, type;

Aid it, for the hour is ripe,

And our earnest must not slacken,
Into play;

Men of thought, and men of action,
Clear the way.

The age of Chivalry has gone. An age of Humanity has come. The Horse, whose importance, more than human, gave the name to that early period of gallantry and war, now yields his foremost place to Man. In serving him, in promoting his elevation, in contributing to his welfare, in doing him good, there are fields of bloodless triumph, nobler far than any in which the bravest knight ever conquered. Here are spaces of labor, wide as the world, lofty as heaven. Let me say, then, in the benison once bestowed upon the youthful knight,-Scholars! jurists! artists! philanthropists! heroes of a Christian age,